


Severed

by fortnightsofren



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, rexsoka - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Flashbacks, Major Character Injury, Star Wars rebels - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-29 23:10:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14483244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortnightsofren/pseuds/fortnightsofren
Summary: Ahsoka loses something other than herself in the aftermath of her fight with Vader on Malachor.





	Severed

_**SEVERED** _

Word Count: 1,229

Era: SWR

Pairings: Rex and Ahsoka

 

Ash clung to her like a second skin. It varnished her lungs and weighed down like lead. Breathing only made her feel more deficient. Still, Ahsoka limped from the sanguine aftermath and crimson shards of the temple. Her vision was blurred, but from what she could perceive, her entirety  of her skin was coated black. The rubble pierced her palms and she crawled towards the lighter grey of the sky―towards safety―and away from the dark. Her mouth was dry and her eyes glossy. She was unsure of what damage she’d inflicted on … Vader. She couldn’t feel anything but the surface beneath her as she fought her way from the Sith Temple and from what occurred there. The rocks prodding into her hands became less and less and so did the smoke in the air. Ahsoka turned over on her back and faced toward what she assumed was the sky; allowing herself to succumb to enervation.

A soft object drifted along the skin of her shoulder. Ahsoka feared what she’d see upon opening her eyes. With valor still surging strong inside of her, she opened and peered down to see a pastel colored convor. It was nuzzling itself in the crook of her neck and preparing for slumber; it’s tail tapping the ground and then lifting again. Her vision was cleared. It was at that realization of luxury, that Ahsoka was again barred. She saw only one lek, her left lek, in its rightful place. Lifting her hand, she reached for the other lek; only to find it was not there. The appendage had been lost ―severed. Ahsoka began to cry. It only reached just past her collar bones now. Throughout her life, she’d been so proud to watch her lekku get longer. It started as an envy of Master Ti; to have hers be as long and as beautiful. Her lek would no longer grow. Instead, the last chevron was now black instead of the blue she’d been so accustomed to.

Tears ran down her cheeks and her sobs caused insufferable pain in her lungs. She sat up to test if it felt better than lying down. The convor chirped and bounced about her, disturbed from its nap. Her hands were the first thing Ahsoka inspected. Each of them had bled from where her fingernails dug into the skin. Small open wounds scattered the palms as well, courtesy of the rocky nature of Malachor. The orange skin that covered them was now black with cinder. Her muscles ached. She didn’t even feel the pain of her missing lek, but was not spared the sight of blood on her clothes. Tears steadily streamed and burned her split lip. Her chest plate had a burn gash through it; preserving nothing but the heart. The skin, however, was blistered. Ash coated it and would need to be cleaned to prevent infection. Ahsoka needed bacta, badly; tears couldn’t clean it. The convor hopped around her and pleaded to be stroked. She refused and resumed her original placement on the ground. It did not feel as if her heart was preserved.

 

* * *

 

The scream of blaster fire rang true in her montrals. The streaks of blue looked like stars when they descend from the skies and towards death. Her lightsabers hummed as she fled into her next victim. At the droid’s destruction, Ahsoka looked up to the smirking man just yards from where she stood. She knew she shouldn’t feel the way she did when he makes that face, and at her. But she did. He sheltered his twin blasters in their respective resting places and stepped in her direction. Her lightsabers deactivated, stealing away the viridescent glow that shone on everything in her proximity.

“Experience outranks everything, littl’un,” her Captain complemented.

Ahsoka cocked her hip and crossed her arms, “You’re not admitting defeat now, are you?” A nod to what he’d said on the day they’d met.

He laughed and grinned again, “Oh no, I’d never. I’ll always have more experience than you.” A laugh escaped her lips and he continued to tease, “In fact, you’d never be able to catch up to me.”

She rolled her eyes, as per usual, and asked, “What ever did you mean, Captain?”

Rex donned his bucket and heartily stated, “I’m just saying, I think you could give the General a run for his credits.” He’d said that intentionally in close parameter to Skywalker, who then began to defend himself, all the while struggling to win an arm wrestling match with Hardcase.

“‘Soka?” she heard her Master call.

“‘Soka,” the clones looked worried.

“‘Soka!” Rex hurdled to her.

 

* * *

 

“‘Soka!”

She heard the footsteps of a person with heft. The ground vibrated beneath her. She prayed it was Anakin. She was deathly afraid of this dream she’d been in where he’d turned against her.

He sunk to her level and she couldn’t hear what he was saying. Mutters were all that she could decipher, but from the look on his face, she knew. Rex was beside himself crying. Looking upon her battered body was causing him to hyperventilate. He was fearful to touch her.

Ahsoka lifted her hand to his cheek, “Rex.”

Rex nodded and lifted her body upwards. He began to inspect her. The bruises on her arms and face made him nauseous. The orange pigment of her skin was masked with the amount of ash that covered it. Her lek was gone. The rear lek rippled with burns. Rex withheld his sobs and picked up her wounded form; taking her into the ship.

He held her hand with the gentle way he used to handle his blasters. He kissed the back of her hands and brought them to the sink. She made no noise when he began to clean her injuries. She became so used to it during the Clone War; there was no longer a need to cry out. Her skin was orange again. Rex proceeded with carefully placed bacta. “Don’t you fall asleep, ‘Soka.” He had no doubt in his mind that she’d roll her eyes if she could.

The sensation of her lekku being handled wasn’t as fond a feeling as it was when she wasn’t hurt. Still, she allowed Rex to tend to the damage. The smell of bacta hung heavily in their air, as well as Rex’s reminders to stay awake.

“You were right, Rex ol’ boy,” Ahsoka attempted, coughing.

He moved to where they were eye level, “What do you mean?”

The accent of his voice made her smile, “Experience outranks everything.”

That memory pulled at his heart and tears streaked his face again. Ahsoka’s bandaged hand soaked them up. “What happened, Ahsoka? Who did this to you?” he pleaded.

She remembered the eye of the Sith and the pale skin. She remembered the brown eyebrow, the scar, and the shape of his face. She remembered his voice. Ahsoka smirked, “I gave Skywalker a run for his credits.”

Rex wanted to smile, to congratulate her. But Skywalker had done this to her. Rex kissed her temple, “Your lekku were shorter when I said that.” He turned to get more bacta.

“I love you … Rex,” Ahsoka sounded.

With a hitch in his breath, he faced her, and repeated the words she’d last said to him when Order 66 occurred.


End file.
